


In The Dust

by flinchflower



Series: Slash Me Twice [80]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Danger, Hunting, M/M, Psychic Abilities, Tessera, demon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:39:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 80: Sunbeam.  The hunt intensifies for John and Dean out of the house, investigating the latest lead, and Sam has a vision - does it save their asses?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Copyright notice: I hold the copyright for Mistress Tess & Tessera, original characters, and multiple storylines associated with her. Someday (hopefully sooner than later) you'll see her in a series of novels, I ask that at this time others refrain from use of the character or venue without express permission. She is allowed to play in fanfic, I just request that I know about it. Frankly, I hesitate to post any of the fics with her in them, it's always a struggle... but... here we are.
> 
> Disclaimer: Not for profit, simply a writing exercise. Herein lies Dean/Sam slash, in an AU timeline where John did not lose his life. John appears in parental context only. Follows in series from previous prompts, but stands alone if preferred.

There’s something wrong with a hunt in the middle of the day, Dean thinks. The sneaking is better at night. Or rather, he’s more used to sneaking with his Dad at night – Sam’s great at looking like he belongs somewhere in the daylight. All those days of blending in at Stanford, he supposes. Then he wonders briefly if Dad will get insistent about him and some higher education after the demon’s done for. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it, but it feels funny, like an itch he can’t reach. Shrugging, he leaves the thoughts behind him.

He’s a little too late putting them aside, because just as he shrugs, John’s hand connects with his ass in a solid swat. “Head out of the clouds, son.” John’s voice isn’t critical, just amused. They’re approaching the area, and Dean needs to focus – they’re not in any danger, not yet at least. 

“Sorry.” He’s not completely embarrassed, just slightly, and that’s more because Mathieu is looking on. And there was no real censure from Dad, really, just a reminder, though he’s pretty sure that John isn’t aware that the simple swat woke the fire from the spanking he’d had earlier in the week.

They’ve had everything run smoothly so far, and John and Dean are waiting for the thing that will go wrong. For once they have permission to enter the site, on the premise that they might want to salvage a few things, paid the person who owns the site a fee to haul out what they want, and obtained a twenty-four hour permit. It’s closer than John would want, but hey. They do what they can.

The house isn’t in that bad of shape, most of the furniture is gone, but that’s not what John wanted anyways. They’re looking for hidden places, where the journals are going to be secreted, and then John’s got one of his odd feelings about the outbuildings and where the sword might be hidden, if it’s not here.

There’s a quick “HAH!” from John, and Dean knows he’s located the journals. Damn. The man is good, and walking into the room with Mathieu close on his heels, he grins at his father.

“Damn, you’re good, old man.”

John chuckles. “We want to check the rest of the likely spots, son,” he says, extracting the journals from the bricks at the back of the fireplace. “We don’t know what else might be around, and I’d like to be sure.”

“You want to catch that, and I’ll do the purification? Unless, of course, the senior citizens need a rest?”

That gets a belly laugh out of John, and Mathieu’s just watching calmly. “You do the purification, son. Maybe stick with me through the rooms though, I still can’t shake that feeling.”

Dean narrows his eyes, thinks about it. “I know.” They stand, looking at each other, hunters senses enmeshing and seeking out around them. Finally John shakes his head. “Only thing we can do is do the job, and do it right.”

“Yessir,” Dean says with relief, and starts tracing runes with saltwater. It’s the best they’ve come up with, to purify a building that’s gonna be destroyed, where other people might come after they do, and ask questions. John smiles, proud of his son, and Mathieu gets a little closer to give John a hand, seeing that Dean’s not needing help.

***

Sam wakes to late afternoon sunbeams, relaxed, and with the scent of lavender strong in the air. Tess is right there when he cracks an eyelid open, and for some reason it’s incredibly comforting to not only not be alone, but to have it be Tess with him. She sets her book aside, and as he shifts, instinctively rolling so that his behind isn’t readily accessible, he realizes she’s covered him with a light sheet so he wouldn’t sunburn. It’s a funny feeling, and her smile is met with another one of his shy ones. His stomach rumbles, having missed lunch entirely while he was sleeping, and it draws a light laugh from her.

“Go down and have some tea, shall we?”

“Tea,” he says. “I should be researching.”

“And you will,” comes the serene reply, watching as he folds the sheet and hands it to her, “After you have some tea.” His impish glance is comforting to her, and she’s ready to let him focus again.

He pauses, disoriented in the darkness of the stairwell, and she keeps a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got you, boy. It’s steep, just take the steps slow.”

“Yes ma’am.” Such a sweet boy. Her eyes adjust quickly, used to transitions like this in the club, and she sees him rub his temples, he pauses on the landing that marks the halfway point.

“Headache?”

“I-“ She sees the pain hit him like a sledgehammer, and it takes all her strength to grab him and guide him down with her, to sit on the wrought iron landing. He moans in agony, and she squeezes him tighter to her. This isn’t sun exposure, not exhaustion –

“Dad, no, don’t do it – trap, DAD!” Sam’s yelling, and now she knows what’s going on – one of his visions – but she thought they just spent months getting it under - Well, there’s not time for that. She hits the emergency locator on the bracelet she always wears, and prays that the security will get to them quickly, because she needs to get the boy into a bedroom-

And thank god they must have been up here on rounds, because one of the guys is bolting up the stairs – there’s a GPS in her bracelet, keyed to the club. “To the suite next to mine,” she says tersely, “HURRY.” The man gives her what would be a panicked glance in anyone else, and throws the tall boy over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry that’s probably going to leave bruises, but that’s the least of their worries, Sam’s still moaning his father’s name, Dean’s name, and mumbling other bits of information. Mathieu’s not picking up his phone. Neither is John. Damn! Just as they’re bursting into the suite next to hers, where she prefers to have the Winchester family, she gets through to Bobby, and it’s a short conversation – nothing she can do – John turns them all off during a hunt. 

Security has Sam restrained in the bed John sleeps in, thrashing horribly, and she finds her hands are shaking slightly as she draws up a hypodermic with a sedative in it. A glance at the guard has him exiting the suite, and she knows he’ll be just outside the door until she tells him otherwise.

“Sam. Samuel. Sam Winchester, you listen to me. I know you’re in pain, you need to calm down. You have thirty seconds, young man, and then I’m going to put a needle in your behind. Your choice.”

He stops fighting the bonds enough that she sets the needle on the dresser. And then he’s staring beyond her, and there’s another yell. 

“DEAN. STAY THERE. It’s a TRAP. DAD.” And with that, she’s hit by what feels like a horrible, repressive wave that roils out from Sam, leaving her dizzy for a moment. He catches her eyes, looks beyond her and back to her, and then his eyes roll back into his head as he goes limp, his nose bleeding freely. 

***

Dean traced the last of the symbols firmly, glancing up at his father, who was flipping through the journals. 

“Outbuildings next,” he asked, as he shook his hand out. He was still looking around, just like he’d been through the whole house, feeling uneasy. John frowned, studying his son. They’d purified the whole house, hadn’t stirred up any activity, Mathieu had been watching the outbuildings, seen nothing from them, either. 

“Something’s bugging you.”

Dean scratched at the back of his neck. “I don’t know what, Dad.”

“The journals say the sword’s hidden at a theatre in town. There’s papers on top that say different.” 

He looks at his father, and shivers slightly. “I don’t like it.” He knows his father will weigh what he’s said, knows the older man is already concerned.

“Standard procedure says check the outbuildings, Dean,” he says slowly, with some reluctance.

“Lets do it, then.” He hefts his bag, and heads for the front door, and then he’s got to stop and grab the doorframe, dizzy. The second John’s arm goes around him, he feels the cool sensation of holy water splashing in his face, around where he’s standing. 

“DEAN-” And then Dad’s voice is overlaid with Sam’s and the three of them hear Sam’s voice echo through the room. “DEAN. STAY THERE. It’s a TRAP. DAD…” The air in the room visibly shimmers, and Mathieu turns John to point at the symbols Dean had traced along the walls and the windows, which were glowing slightly.

“I’ve never seen that before,” John mutters, supporting Dean, who’s still not standing firmly.

“Dad.” Dean may not be managing vertical very well, but his voice is rock hard. “Call. Now. From the car.”

John pulls his .45 and hustles them out to Mathieu’s truck, and doesn’t drop his guard until they’re safely in, and Mathieu’s muttered some protections and prayers of his own – then he calls Tess, as Mathieu backs the truck to the end of the driveway – he knows what John wants, if this is a fluke, they’ll drive back in to the outbuildings, if there’s something wrong back at Tessera, they’re headed home. And then a man approaches on the sidewalk, hailing them. Dean’s head snaps up, catching sight of inky black eyes.

“Mathieu – GO!”

He has to give the dom credit, he didn’t hesitate at the order, even though it came from Dean, and as they’re taking off, John catches sight of the black eyes, and the anger in the face.

“Phone away, John,” says Mathieu, “It will interfere. Meditate, NOW.” 

The Winchester men are taken aback, but they both remember that Mathieu’s dealt with the demon on his own before, come out alive. The drive is silent save for Mathieu’s intonations, and both Dean and John have trouble focusing. John settles for rubbing a soothing hand up and down Dean’s face, by the look of him he’s got a hell of a headache, the movement is meditative for John at least, and it seems to be getting the boy to relax, concentrate. They’re both concentrating enough that they don’t notice that the trip is longer than it should be, and when the truck stops, they open their eyes on a river, not Tessera.

“Matty-“

“Out and in, gentlemen. Yemaya likes her men wet.”

They obey with some reluctance, and John worries about his son, who still seems unsteady. Matheiu scatters blue chalcedony, three pieces, and three new pennies in the water, then puts a hand on each man’s shoulder. He offers up the prayer, and then submerges the three of them, glad the water’s clean. They climb shivering into the truck, Matheiu wrapping the men in worn blankets. John dredges up a protest, finally.

“Matty, Yemaya’s a woman’s orisha.”

“The demon is an affront to the earth herself, John. The prayer is for the mother’s help, so we can help the mother. Get the message Tess left you, Johnny.”

John listens to the phone, pulls Dean in tight. “Matty-“

“It’s Sam. I know. Ten minutes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack: Queensryche - Empire


End file.
